


Heart in Flames

by misspamela



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is a Prince, Dragon shifter, Fantasy AU, First Times, Frottage, Lydia is awesome, M/M, magnus is a dragon, sexytimes in a cave, this is the dragon shifter magnus au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela
Summary: “I like pretty things,” Magnus said, lazily moving his hand to gesture at the treasure around them. “You’re very pretty.”





	Heart in Flames

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you so much to Mirayla for the gorgeous art for this fic. You can find it [here](https://mirayladraws.tumblr.com/post/171839697350/cover-art-for-miss-pamelas-fanfiction-heart-in) on Tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you also to Taupefox for your excellent beta and making the story stronger. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my cheerleading squad, beatperfume and Bonibaru!

There was a dragon in the mountains. 

Prince Alexander grew up knowing this. It was one of the facts of his existence: He was Prince Alexander, heir to the mighty Lightwood throne. The rains would come in the winter, followed by ice, followed by flowers. His sister Isabelle was the best person in the world. And there was a dragon in the mountains. 

“Mother, I thought that Lightwoods aren’t afraid of anything?” Alec asked one day. He was young enough that his mother still indulged him to sit with her as she worked, perhaps only five or six years of age. 

“That’s correct,” she said, not looking up from her quill and parchment. 

Alec thought carefully about his next words. He didn’t know the right things to say, but he didn’t want to make mother angry with him. “But then...why are we afraid of the dragon?”

Mother put her quill down and Alec tensed, anticipating her reaction. She loved him, he knew that, but hers was not a kind and warm love. It was unpredictable, and even at a young age, Alec was in the habit of trying to read her moods before speaking. 

But this time she was smiling down at him. She reached down to where he was curled against her knee and ruffled his hair. “Hmmm, are you afraid of the rains? Of the ice?” 

He thought about it. “No...no, not afraid.”

“Mmmm,” she said, smiling at him again. She leaned down to pinch his cheek and tickle his chin. “And would you go out in the coldest, darkest deep freeze in just your underthings?” 

“Mama!” he said, scandalized, the babyish term slipping out unnoticed. “No!”

“The dragon is like that,” she said, turning back to her work. “He is like the ice and the storms and the raging wildfires. He cares not for human concerns, and we do not tempt his wrath.” 

Alec wanted to ask how his mother knew the dragon was a _he_ , but he knew his mother’s moods, and he knew they were done talking about the dragon. 

Still, Alec thought about the dragon often.

 

………………………..

His mother knew even before he did. She came to him one day, when he was about ten years old, and said, “You will be king one day.”

Alec was too big to roll his eyes at his mother anymore, and she wasn’t the type to babble inanities, so he kept his eyes on the sword in his lap, polishing it over and over again. “Yes,” he said, not sure of the answer she was looking for. 

“Your duty to your people -- to your country -- is to marry and produce an heir,” she said, and Alec looked up this time, confused. He knew all this, why was she telling him? “It’s important,” she said, “that you understand that.”

“I do,” he said slowly. And he did. He would marry a princess and produce an heir. He understood all of that. 

“You will understand more when you’re older.” The Queen stood, smoothing her skirts. “You can never forget your duty, first and foremost.” She left, as serenely as she had come in.

Alec felt hot all over, ashamed, though he didn’t know why. He didn’t want to marry a princess, it was true, but he knew that something was going to change when he got older, right? Something would change inside him and he’d be ready to marry and give his kingdom an heir. He’d seen the older boys’ interests turn from swords and fighting to the visiting noblemen’s daughters. Even if it felt strange and foreign now, surely that would happen to him too. 

Later he wondered how his mother always knew him so well and yet not at all.

…………………..

When Alec was twenty-two, he met his bride to be. Her name was Lydia. (Lydia, Countess Branwell, but as soon as they met she waved him off and said, “Just Lydia, please.”) Lydia was beautiful in a way that Alec could admire, but didn’t manage to touch him inside. He had hoped that maybe-- 

Nevertheless, Lydia wasn’t just beautiful but smart; she was direct and clear, with a wry sense of humor. She had a passion for agricultural science, with many ideas about how to improve the kingdom’s crops. Lydia arrived in the late autumn with her parents, with much fanfare. The plan was that they would stay several weeks to negotiate the marriage agreement and allow Alec and Lydia to get to know each other. They would leave before the first snow, then return for a spring wedding. It was all planned. 

Alec was fine with this plan. He had to get married, it was his duty. Lydia was a pleasant person who he enjoyed spending time with. That was more than he could have hoped for. Many dynastic marriages lacked passion; there was a chance she might never notice his failings. They would get along comfortably, he thought. His parents approved and Lydia had even managed to win over Isabelle, who was embarrassingly protective of him.

One night, about a week into their visit, Alec was relaxing in his chamber when he heard a knock at the door. “Come,” he said, not looking up from the reports of a large boar running wild in the western forest. 

To his surprise, Lydia walked in, dressed in her nightclothes, wrapped in a robe. “Lydia,” he sputtered, startled, half-rising from his chair. “I-- what are you--” He didn’t know where to look. He’d never spent time alone with a woman who wasn’t his mother or Isabelle.

“Please, stay seated,” she said, settling herself in the chair opposite him. “I wanted to talk to you about something, now that we know each other a little better.” Lydia studied him silently, the light from the fireplace flickering softly on the side of her face. Alec realized that she was hesitating about something, showing a reluctance he hadn’t seen in her before about anything. 

“Yes?” he prompted. Perhaps he was being abrupt with her, but she had shown up half-dressed in his room. 

“Our marriage,” she said, playing with the edge of her robe. She sighed, then shook herself and looked directly at him. “May I speak plainly?” she asked. 

“When have you not?” Alec said. He felt unsettled, uneasy. 

“I do not love you,” she said, without a hint of apology. Relief hit Alec hard. _Was that all?_ , he thought. 

“We’ve known each other a week,” he said. “I didn’t have those kind of expectations.”

Lydia held up her hand. “I _will not_ love you,” she said. Alec tensed. This was...unexpected. “I was engaged,” she went on, looking at him closely, as if to gauge his reaction. “He died.” She pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly, but no tears fell. “It’s difficult for me to speak of him. But understand that while I respect you greatly, I will not love again.” Lydia smiled, and it was a fragile, hopeful thing. “I would like us to be friends, though.” She colored slightly, but didn’t look away. “And there will be children, of course.”

Alec didn’t know what to think. Obviously, this was preferable to someone who expected him to be a loving and doting husband, but seeing it all laid out like that was unsettling. He realized she was staring at him, waiting for his answer. “Oh,” he said, “of course. Friends.” Alec swallowed and smiled at her. “I would be honored to be your friend. And I understand. Your fiancé must have been a very special man.”

“He was,” Lydia said simply. “And thank you.” She smiled warmly, rising from her seat. “Now I can continue with the wedding planning with a glad heart.” Lydia held her hands out and Alec gripped them, his mind still reeling. He bid her farewell and watched her walk out the door. 

Lydia was beautiful and funny and smart and had no expectations of him. They would be friends, leading separate but congenial lives in the castle, where he would grow old, learning about trade and negotiations while Lydia raised their undoubtedly lovely children. It was the best that he could ask for. 

It was the best that he could ask for, and if it didn’t feel like it was enough? Well, that was due to Alec’s own weakness.

 

…………………....  
“There’s a boar terrorizing the western side of the mountain,” Alec’s father announced. “It’s acting erratically, possibly diseased.” The king dropped the paper he had been holding onto the large, ornate desk that took up one side of his study. “It’s a shame it’s so close to the winter snows. We can’t risk the men getting trapped out there.” 

It made sense. The mountain was dangerous at the best of times, and it was deadly when the snows came. There were some hardy families who made their living cutting wood, their small village clustered at the base of the western slope, but they knew the mountain and its moods well. They wouldn’t venture out this late in the year. 

And yet, if the boar was truly diseased...it might not fear coming into town. It could hurt people. 

Once the thought took hold, Alec couldn’t shake it. He left his father’s office, thinking about the boar and the families. How vulnerable they were. The entire castle was preparing for Lydia and her family to leave the next week, and he was supposed to be cementing their bond while his father negotiated the marriage contract, but he just kept thinking about the mountain. And the boar.

It was like this pressure building behind his eyes, as he walked in the gardens with Lydia, as he planned the wedding feast with his mother, as he discussed how their apartments would be set up. He thought about how wild the mountain was, and how frightened and trapped the families must feel.

Two days later, he went to see his father. “I’m going after the boar,” he announced. 

“You’re what?” His father looked up from his work, frowning. “That’s madness, Alec. You know that and I know that.” He frowned. “Pre-wedding jitters?” 

“No,” Alec said. Jitters were a little case of the nerves. He felt like he was being compressed from all sides. “I just want to help.” He sought for an explanation that would soothe his father. “I want to have one last wild hunt as a bachelor, before I have to settle down with a wife to worry about me.”

The king’s frown deepened. “A suicide mission isn’t some kind of youthful folly.” He shook his head. “Go get drunk or something, Alec. Not this.”

Unfortunately, now that he’d blurted out his plan, his mother found out as well. “Have you lost your mind?” she asked. 

“The villagers,” Alec said, but she cut him off. 

“Don’t give me that, Alexander,” she hissed. “Have I not told you from the day you were born--”

“I need to do my duty,” Alec said, casting his eyes downward. “Yes, mother.”

She studied him for a moment and stepped closer, pulling him into an embrace. “That’s my good boy,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”

Alec had a pleasant dinner with Lydia and their respective families. He kissed her on the cheek before retiring to bed and told her that she looked beautiful. She looked surprised and pleased, as did his parents. Alec went to bed early that night, rather than staying up to read. 

That night, he took a pack of supplies and the sturdiest horse in the stables, slipped through the courtyard gate, and set out for the mountain. 

Alec didn’t look back at the castle as he left.

…………………..

 

Wind whipped across Alec’s face, blowing his hood back. Blinking, he tried to keep the snow out of his eyes, but his eyelashes had started to freeze together. The woods were starting to grow dark, and the boar was still somewhere around here, wounded and angry. He would die in this place, Alec realized. Not in battle, not of old age surrounded by his loved ones, but frozen and alone in the woods. The thought didn’t make him afraid, just a little sad and regretful. He would have liked to see Isabelle again. She would mourn him the most. 

But he wasn’t dead yet, and Alec Lightwood wasn’t a quitter. If he found shelter… Alec scanned the woods for a treefall, a tumble of rocks, something that would keep the wind away, at least. 

There. Just beyond the rise ahead of him, Alec could make out a black void in the rock, a cave of some sort, or a passage. It looked large. Normally he’d be more cautious of large predators that might make a home there, but he was going to die anyway. This was his only chance. Struggling, he pulled his pack up on his shoulder and forced his frozen muscles to move. He’d sent his horse down the mountain an hour ago, fearing that the climb would be too difficult for the animal. He was right. One step. Two steps. The wind screamed through the branches, high and shrill. Three steps. Four steps. Alec could see movement out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t tell what was real and what was madness from the cold. The scenery around him pulsed and flickered, blackness creeping in on the edges of his vision. Five steps. Six steps. Seven. 

Then there was a howl that was most definitely not the wind, a wild thrashing of movement to his left, and Alec had enough clarity in his last few seconds of consciousness to see the boar rushing toward him, every bristle on his giant snout standing out in sharp detail, along with the drool shining on his tusks, the gleam in his eyes.

And then there was pain.

 

And then there was nothing.

…….

 

Alec wasn’t expecting the warmth. He always thought death would be cold, or void of any sensation. Instead, he was pleasantly warm. Heat radiated from a source somewhere on his left, and he felt— he felt— furs? He became slowly aware of increased sensations. A dull pain throbbing in his chest. Light behind his closed eyelids. The scent of pine and metal. Not dead, then. His mind struggled to make sense of it, but he felt slow, muddled. How was that possible? 

Slowly, carefully, Alec opened his eyes. Between the flickering firelight in front of him and the feel of velvet and furs around him, his first thought was that he was in the castle. But no, the walls were smooth and curved, rather than blocks of stone. The bed he was lying on was strange, the velvet cloak he was wrapped in was entirely unfamiliar. He was on a bed of furs and somehow, he was completely naked. Maybe he _was_ dead, or dreaming, but this all felt so real. 

The pain and exhaustion were real, though, and the exertion of lifting his head to look around left him gasping for breath. 

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” a voice said from behind his head. 

“Who--” Alec croaked, but it hurt to talk. 

“I wouldn’t talk either,” the voice said, and now he could see movement in his peripheral vision, a flash of golden brown. “You were dead when I found you. Well,” the voice amended. “Technically dead, but not so dead I couldn’t bring you back.” 

The person who was talking finally moved into Alec’s field of vision, and-- oh. 

_Oh._

Alec had never seen anyone like this man in his life. He had golden brown skin, a leanly muscled body, and dark hair falling over one eye. There was a swirling energy around him, a kind of glittering aura that followed him as he moved. HIs skin gleamed with it, shining sparks of gold catching the light across his chest. To Alec’s shock, he was also completely and utterly naked. 

He was definitely either dreaming or dead. 

“Who--” he tried to say, but his vision blurred in and out. 

“You really should rest,” the man said, cocking his head to one side. “I put a lot of energy into healing you. If you died, it would be such a waste.” He reached his hand out and the energy swirling around him coalesced into a ball around his fist, which he swept over Alec’s body. The pain receded, leaving a heavy fog of exhaustion in its wake. “Sleep,” the man said. “We’ll talk again when you wake up.” 

 

………….

This time, Alec woke up suddenly, his breath caught in his chest. He felt panicked for a moment, shaking off a dream where he’d been drowning, until he looked around and remembered. Alec’s chest and sides still hurt and he felt as weak as an infant, but more present, his mind clear. Given how tired he still felt, Alec figured moving wasn’t the best idea, even though his first instinct was to explore his surrounding. He was still on some kind of bed, wrapped in furs and velvet. If the man had meant to hurt him, he’d have had plenty of opportunity to do so by now. Alec could only assume he was safe here, wherever here was. 

Now that he was more awake, Alec could see that the room he was in wasn’t just made of stone, it was actually a cave of some kind. He could see a tunnel leading out of the room, lit by what seemed to be torchlight, not natural light. It was impossible to tell how far away from the surface he was, or even what time of day it was. Around him, there were dozens of torches set into the wall at close intervals, bathing the cave in light. 

The cave itself...Alec couldn’t imagine its purpose. Initially his impression was that it was for storage, as there seemed to be items thrown haphazardly all over the cave. But as he looked closer, he could see that what he’d initially taken for supplies of some kind, in his half-awake haze, were actually treasures beyond the worth of anything he’d ever seen. Golden chalices, jewels the size of Alec’s fist, fine silks and velvets, paintings and sculptures, robes and dresses, items that glowed strangely or seemed to move on their own. There was so much of it Alec didn’t know where to look first. Rather than being haphazardly thrown everywhere, the items seemed to be arranged to show their best aspect; not in a manner that Alec might have been accustomed to, like in the castle, but someone had certainly put some thought into how the objects were displayed. 

Now that he was feeling better, Alec realized suddenly how hungry he was. And thirsty. It felt like his stomach and throat were so empty and dry, they would collapse in on themselves. If that strange man was still around, Alec had no idea how to summon him. He was fairly sure he didn’t have the strength to walk, but he was going to have to give it a try soon if he didn’t want to starve to death surrounded by treasure. Alec shifted on the bed, easing himself up on one elbow, and--

“You’re awake.” There was the man, somehow suddenly in front of him, wisps of smoke curling off his body. He was naked again, which was something that Alec had convinced himself that he’d imagined. 

Alec’s throat hurt, but he managed to croak out “...water.” 

“Right!” The man waved his hand and a table appeared next to the bed with a pitcher and a goblet. There was also a plate with bread, cheese, and fruit on it. “Humans,” the man said cheerfully. “So fragile, I always forget.” 

_Humans_. If this man -- this being -- wasn’t a human, what was he? Alec was able to sit himself up enough to grab the goblet, which was already filled with what appeared to be water. If it wasn’t, if it was something more sinister, then Alec was going to die of thirst anyway. He barely hesitated before he drank. It was water, clear and cold spring water, as refreshing as anything he’d tasted in his life. Drinking it was tiring, so he carefully lay back down before reaching for some bread. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around humans,” the man said musingly. “I’ve had to remember some of your customs…oh!” He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden he was wearing a richly embroidered robe. “Clothes!” he said, clearly delighted. This was insane, this was an illusion, it was...it was magic, the kind of which Alec had never seen, and part of him was terrified, but part of him wanted to smile at how pleased the man looked. 

“I forgot how nice clothes can be,” the man went on. “Mmmm, I used to love to dress up. I’m Magnus, by the way,” the man said, flicking his fingers and making an overstuffed settee appear next to him. He draped himself across it, carefully flipping the edges of his robe so they lay just right as he settled down.

“Just Magnus?” Alec asked, distracted by the flash of lean thigh he saw as Magnus sat down.

“ _Just_?” Magnus asked, huffily. As he spoke, Alec could swear he saw tiny puffs of smoke coming out of Magnus’ mouth and nose. Impossible. “ _Just_ Magnus?” Magnus shook his head. “Honestly, there is nothing _just_ about all this.” He gestured broadly down at himself and the whole room, encompassing all the treasure there. 

“No,” Alec said, because he really didn’t want to insult this incredibly powerful being in front of him. “I just meant-- I have two names. Three, really. Alexander Gideon Lightwood.” He smiled, hoping it looked friendly and not nervous. It felt strange on his face. “But you can call me Alec, if you want. My sister does.”

“Alexander,” Magnus mused. “I like that.” He smiled slowly, holding Alec’s gaze. “And I don’t think I want to call you what your sister calls you.”

Alec didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. 

“I only have the one name,” Magnus said, frowning to himself. “Or do I? I don’t know, it’s been so long since anyone called me anything. I’ve been resting.” He made a face and took a sip of his wine. “Ragnor would call it _hiding_ , but what does that old bat know. Like he’s been around for the past hundred years.” 

Alec felt himself grow cold. Magnus looked like he was maybe just a bit older than Alec. He knew Magnus was magic, but… “A hundred years?” he asked. 

“Mmmm, at least. I’ve been resting, as I said. A bit bored.” _Lonely_ popped into Alec’s head, but who was he to tell a magical person how lonely they were? “I haven’t come down from here in a very, very long time. Humanity stopped interesting me.” He raised his goblet and peered at Alec across the rim, his eyes flashing gold for a moment. “ _You_ interest me, Alexander.” 

“I can’t be the first person to come up this mountain in the last hundred years,” Alec said, feeling increasingly confused and flustered. “Or even the first person to nearly die up here.”

“Oh you were dead,” Magnus said firmly. “It just wasn’t for very long. And no.” Magnus stood up and walked over to Alec’s bed, running his fingers through Alec’s hair. Alec shivered, goosebumps flooding his skin. Nobody had ever touched him anywhere but his hand, other than the occasional hug from Izzy. Only years of self-control kept him from whimpering and following Magnus’ hand as it withdrew. 

“You are not the only person to come up here, or to die up here. But there’s something about you.” Magnus lifted Alec’s chin with one finger and studied him. His gaze was overwhelming, crackling with power. “You’re beautiful,” he said simply, and Alec had no idea what to do with that, it was too much, too much like what he’d dreamed about and wanted for so long, something he hadn’t even known how to name, and he couldn’t hold Magnus’ eyes any longer. He looked away and Magnus dropped his hand. “I like pretty things,” Magnus said, lazily moving his hand to gesture at the treasure around them. “You’re very pretty.”

“I’m a person,” Alec said. He had started to lose some of his fear of Magnus, but it came rushing back. “You can’t just stick me with your gold coins and keep me here forever.”

“You’re mortal, it won’t be forever.” Alec must have made a shocked face, because Magnus rolled his eyes and said, “I’m just kidding, darling, I can’t say I really had a plan when I saved you. I felt like it, so I did it.” 

“I have to return home,” Alec said, even though he couldn’t imagine it at the moment. Leaving this shining, golden cave and returning to the castle. His future. His duties. Lydia. “I’m...I have duties.” They must all think he was dead, he realized with a jolt. Everyone would be working on his funeral, the designation of Isabelle as official heir...with effort, Alec pulled his attention back to Magnus.

“Mmmm, you were dressed more richly than other humans I’ve seen come this way. Royalty, perhaps?” Magnus snapped his fingers, his eyes growing large. “ _Lightwood_ , of course. I knew your great-grandfather.” He shuddered. “He was very annoying. I didn’t like him one bit.” 

As Alec had never met his great-grandfather, he wasn’t sure if that was truthful or an insult, so he let it be. He was starting to feel tired again, his thoughts growing fuzzy. “How long before I’m well?” he asked, trying to suppress a yawn. 

“A few days,” Magnus said, doing the glowing ball thing with his hand again. “You’re strong,” he said, his gaze sweeping down Alec’s body, “so maybe just a day before you’re up and about. A few weeks before you’re strong enough to make the journey back.” Alec flushed under his gaze, but felt himself relax. He didn’t have to go back yet. Not just yet.

 

………………...  
Alec slept on and off again for what seemed like another day. Every time he woke, there was fresh water and food waiting for him and the room had subtly changed. At first, Alec thought he was imagining things, but no, there were now comfortable chairs in one corner, a small hollowed-out nook in one side for washing up, with a deep pool and soft cloths for drying himself, as well as a wardrobe on the far side of the cave containing the most spectacular and erratic collection of clothes Alec had ever seen. The last time he woke up, he was feeling strong enough to finish the bowl of soup and loaf of bread that had been left for him, then he was able to wash up and look for clothes. 

He was still wearing only a cloth wrapped around his waist and trying to decide between a pair of bright purple pantaloons that looked like they’d been fashionable a century ago, and what looked like some kind of leather spiked armor when Magnus appeared next to him. Apparently he’d decided to take up wearing clothes, because he was wearing a shimmering blue shirt, made of some material Alec had never seen before, along with tight black trousers.

“Oh,” Magnus said doubtfully, poking at the armor. “That’s not quite you, is it?” 

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” Alec said hesitantly. “But perhaps something comfortable, if you have it?” 

Magnus snapped his fingers and the cloth around Alec’s waist disappeared. After a moment, a loose shirt and pants appeared on him, made of the finest white linen Alec had ever seen. It was the first time since setting out after the boar that Alec felt healthy, warm, safe, and relaxed. He tried to put the question of what would happen next out of his mind and focused on the present. 

It was clear by now that Magnus was benevolent, or at least, currently in the mood to be benevolent toward Alec. But he had been raised to be cautious of anyone or anything with that much raw power, and the traveling magicians and witches he’d seen had never done anything like this. This kind of magic was unheard of, like something from a fairy story. “Magnus,” he said cautiously, “are you-- are you a wizard or magician? How long have you been living in the mountain?” 

“A _wizard_?” Magnus said, his voice dripping with disgust. “A _magician_?” The cave shook slightly and Alec could smell ozone. Magnus’ eyes flashed gold for a moment before he collected himself, sniffing disdainfully. “Hardly,” he said. “Let me show you.” Walking toward the entrance of the cave, Magnus motioned Alec to follow. 

As they walked, Alec noticed his own fatigue and some pain lingering around his chest, but nothing like he’d felt before. He was healing so much more rapidly than he ever could have imagined. For the first time since waking up, he had the thought _I should be dead_ , and realized what that meant. He’d set out with the vague thought that he might die and that it might be okay, but now his eyes had been opened. There was magic in the world unlike he’d ever seen. There was beauty in the mountain. There was Magnus, who was someone he couldn’t even have imagined. 

Alec was glad, fiercely glad, that he hadn’t died on the mountain. 

Magnus led him to the mouth of the cave, where it opened out to a large clearing and the dark forest around and below them. They must be at the very top of the mountain, considering how steeply the ground sloped downward. It was still snowing hard, tiny crystalline flakes whipping sideways across the mouth of the cave. Magnus snapped his fingers and one of the furs that had been on Alec’s bed suddenly appeared draped across his shoulders. “Stay here,” Magnus said, tucking the furs in closer around him. “Watch.”

Magnus stepped backward out of the cave, holding Alec’s gaze the whole time. He raised his hands and -- in that moment, Alec knew. It was impossible, completely impossible, but he knew. Even with some small part of him knowing, it was utterly shocking to see Magnus just...dissolve into red mist. As the mist expanded outward, Alec flinched, stumbling back from the cave, his arm raised to shield his eyes, but the mist swirled again and solidified in the shape of a massive red dragon. 

Alec dropped to his knees. 

His mother was right; the dragon was a force of nature. The air around Alec was charged with electricity and smelled of ozone, like the moment before a lightning strike. He was also massive, his legs the size of small houses, an enormous wedge-shaped head with a mouth filled with massive, glistening teeth. Nothing could withstand an attack from such a creature. 

But...he was also beautiful. As the dragon shifted, Alec realized that the his red scales were also tipped with gold, and his wings shimmered with gold, orange, red, and copper, like pure iridescent flame. And his eyes...they were Magnus’ eyes, ancient and observing, with a hint of humor lurking in them. He was amused at Alec’s reaction, Alec could tell that. And a little vain, as he preened and spread his wings, clearly showing off for Alec’s benefit. 

Like his whole existence wasn’t awe-inspiring. 

Alec could feel himself starting to shake, the shock of seeing Magnus change form and the lingering weakness from his injuries combined with the cold were just too much for him. He whispered “Magnus,” and even though there was no way the dragon could hear him from where his head craned above the treeline, the dragon dissolved into red mist immediately, reforming into Magnus, who stumbled forward into the cave, reaching forward to grasp Alec’s hands. 

“Ssshhh,” Magnus whispered, pulling him closer. “Alec, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I’m not--” Alec tried to get out, but his teeth were chattering too hard to answer. Shock, he realized dimly, as if from a distance. He was in shock. Magnus was rubbing his hands, looking at him worriedly, and then, as if today hadn’t brought enough surprises, Magnus began kissing the tips of Alec’s fingers, gently, one by one, as he murmured, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Alec yanked his hand away. “Do not,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t-- I don’t--”

Magnus looked briefly hurt, then his features settled into something more formal and remote. “You need to rest,” he said. “My apologies.” There was another flash of gold, and Alec was back in his bed, alone. 

Overwhelmed and confused, Alec let himself drift off to sleep. He would deal with his worries in the morning. 

 

………….  
The next day, Alec woke up alone again. There was fresh food and water near the bed, but no sign of Magnus. 

Magnus, who was the dragon he’d heard about his whole life. 

Magnus, who’d kissed his hands so gently when he was afraid. 

Magnus, who was somehow everything he’d been taught to fear since he was a child, but also made Alec feel safe and cared for. 

This was a place where the rules that had governed Alec’s life no longer applied, and he felt so lost and small. He didn’t know what to do. Remembering an old tutor’s words about empty stomachs being the enemy of wisdom, he decided that having a good meal would go a long way toward settling his mind, and then he would go find Magnus. 

As it turned out, Magnus found him. 

While Alec was finishing up the dried meat and fruit that had been left for him, Magnus came walking into the room. He was wearing a loose linen outfit, similar to the one Alec had worn yesterday. He looked smaller, more human. _Not human_ , Alec remembered, but the thought held less power today. 

“I’m sorry,” Magnus said, by way of greeting. “I haven’t had company in a hundred years, I forgot myself.” He made a face. “And I forgot how fragile human minds and bodies are.” 

Of course he would be offended at that. Alec almost laughed at him, but something else caught his attention. “A hundred years?” he said. “Don’t you get lonely?”

“Lonely,” Magnus mused. “Hmmm, lonely. Perhaps. Perhaps lately.” He sighed and dropped into a chair that hadn’t been there a moment before. “I had a friend,” he said, trailing his fingers along the arm of the chair. “Ragnor.”

“Another uh--” Alec swallowed. “Another dragon?”

“Mmm,” Magnus hummed affirmatively. “Not all of us live as humans, you know. We can all change shape, but some never even try. Ragnor showed me.” He wasn’t looking at Alec, clearly lost in thought. “We lived as humans for a long time, lived among them, learned their ways.”

“What happened?” Alec asked. Magnus looked so profoundly sad and ancient that Alec almost reached out for him, before remembering. 

“We’re territorial creatures,” Magnus said, coming back to himself with a start, smiling a thin, stretched smile at Alec. “At least among ourselves. Ragnor and I lasted a few centuries together before we started squabbling. We both left to create our own lairs.” He gestured around the room. “As you see.” 

“And you’ve been all by yourself until now,” Alec said. “Why now?”

“I don’t know,” Magnus said, and he sounded honestly confused. He smiled at Alec, still a little unsure, but more genuine this time. “You awoke something in me, Alexander.” He raised his hand, as if he was going to reach out and touch Alec, but then he let it fall to his lap. 

“So,” Magnus said, snapping his fingers and summoning an ornate goblet into his hand. “Tell me all about your human life. I suppose you have a castle?”

“What kind of prince would I be without a castle?” Alec asked, happy to change the subject. So he told Magnus about the castle and the people in it until he grew tired again. 

That night, he slept deeply and woke feeling refreshed and strong. There was his breakfast waiting for him again, and then, shortly after, there was Magnus. “Tell me about Isabelle,” he said, and Alec started talking again. 

………………..

 

The snow had died down two days ago. Alec knew that from his forays out to the mouth of the cave. Unused to being idle, he had made a habit of walking twice daily around the small network of caves, minus the area clearly used as Magnus’ living quarters. As his body healed and grew stronger, the pressure of having to return to the castle grew in his mind, coiling black tendrils around his thoughts. In his darkest moments, he wished he’d never come here, that he could have just lived his life with Lydia, quietly dissatisfied but mostly content, quietly reigning until his death. 

He wished he hadn’t been put in the path of his greatest temptation. 

Magnus hadn’t tried to kiss him again after that day he’d revealed himself, but Alec could feel him looking. He openly admired Alec in a way that made him feel both powerful and terrified. In his most heated, secret fantasies back home he’d only imagined coming across a stranger, some furtive encounter in the back of the stables or out in the woods. The idea of being looked at, flirted with in broad daylight...that was as alien to him as Magnus using magic or shifting into his dragon form.

That made Alec think. What if...what if he could have what he wanted on a bed of furs and silks, surrounded by warmth and caring. He wasn’t bound to Lydia, not yet. _A technicality_ his mind whispered to him. _You are all but betrothed_. But Lydia thought he was dead. His parents thought he was dead. Couldn’t a dead man be excused some indulgence? His thoughts and anxieties tied themselves into knots in his head and his chest, but at the end of the day, he could identify his biggest fear: What if he left, and never had this chance again? 

The memory of Magnus would haunt the rest of his days, he knew that already. He knew what Lydia had meant when she sat him down and said that she could never love again. He thought, maybe, even if his family couldn’t understand, Lydia somehow would. 

That night, when Magnus came to the treasure room to talk to Alec, Alec was the one who was looking. He watched as Magnus moved his hands in the air, describing some far-off sea and the strange beasts that lived there. Fish the size of dragons, he swore, and Alec would normally scoff at him or make a joke, but he couldn’t stop watching those beautiful, expressive hands and wondering what they’d feel like on his skin. 

Alec realized that Magnus had stopped talking and was staring at him. “Alexander?” he asked, curiously. “What is it?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec said, because he didn’t, he didn’t know how to say what he felt and he didn’t want to pretend he wasn’t feeling anything anymore. “I--” Alec swallowed around the lump of fear in his throat. “I like your hands.”

Magnus stilled completely, staring at him in that slightly unsettling way that he had when Alec first arrived. “My hands,” he said quietly, reaching toward Alec and trailing the back of his hand lightly over Alec’s cheek. It was hot, almost burning as it passed over his skin. Alec closed his eyes and shivered. “Alexander, talk to me.”

“I just,” Alec whispered. “I like being here. With you.” As Magnus pulled his hand away, Alec opened his eyes and caught him by the wrist, pressing a searing kiss into his palm. This moment felt like the moment before going into battle, flooded with adrenaline, every one of his senses almost painfully open.

Magnus shifted closer, reaching around to grasp the back of Alec’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. “Is this what you want?” he asked. Up close, he smelled like smoke and fire. Alec’s mouth watered.

Alec closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said, and just saying that, giving voice to what he wanted, loosened the knots in his chest. He could breathe. The adrenaline coursing through his body now felt like excitement, rather than anxiety. He wanted this so very badly. 

“Very well,” Magnus said, pulling him down onto what was suddenly a much larger, more luxurious bed. As he rolled on top of Alec, pressing their bodies together, Alec noticed that both of their clothes were gone. Skin on skin, with more physical contact than Alec had ever had in his entire life, it was like sitting in front of a roaring fire after being out in the cold, or filling a hungry belly. That touch fulfilled him in a way he didn’t know he needed. He felt sated, yet immediately starving for more. Magnus’ skin was so hot that Alec was immediately slick with sweat, easing the slide between their bodies.

Alec whined in the back of his throat and rolled his hips up, running his hands up and down Magnus’ arms. “Please,” he said, kissing and biting at Magnus’ collarbone. “Please.”

“Yes,” Magnus growled, deep and rumbling. The vibrations of his voice shook the walls, sending tiny stones skittering down the sides of the caves. It reached deep inside Alec, shaking him from his core out to his skin. But it felt good, so good, all that power over him and around him and nothing he could do about it. 

Magnus was like the storms, like the winter ice. His mother had been right, all those years ago.

They came together like they had been made for it, their bodies slotted together. Alec had imagined hands or even, in his wildest imagination, mouths being used in his first time, if he would ever be so lucky. But Alec couldn’t stop touching every part of Magnus, letting his hands roam as they kissed, rutting into his hip for friction. Alec could feel the tension between them building and building, his breath coming in little pants as he arched against Magnus, clawing at his back. The smell of ash and smoke intensified and Alec could see steam rising from their bodies as they moved together.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispered, pressing his lips into Alec’s neck. “Let go.” 

It was so much, all the skin pressing against him, Magnus’ hot breath against his neck. Alec let his slick hands slide down the expanse of Magnus’ back and grabbed his hips, urging him downward harder, faster, chasing that sensation until he tipped over the edge, keening and coming in a hot splash between their bodies. 

“Oh,” Magnus said brokenly. “Oh, oh, you’re so beautiful, you’re the most beautiful thing,” Magnus panted. “Oh-- _oh_ ,” and he froze, clutching to Alec and shuddering as he came, looking unbearably human. As he dropped down, kissing Alec’s neck and jaw, Alec thought he heard him whisper “stay.”

Closing his eyes, Alec pulled him close as they drifted off to sleep. How could he stay? That was a beautiful, impossible dream. 

…..

 

This time, when Alec woke up, he wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t in the treasure room. He was in what must have been Magnus’ quarters, a large cave decorated more deliberately than the treasure room, with art on the walls and candelabras scattered about, throwing flickering light on the overstuffed bookcases all around the room. He’d never been in here before and he wasn’t sure what it meant that Magnus had brought him here now.

Next to him, Magnus rolled over, throwing an arm around Alec’s waist. “Why are you moving,” he murmured. “I haven’t cuddled anyone in centuries, I’m overdue.” He cracked one eye open and huffed, smoke curling up from his mouth and his nose. Alec remembered how much that had frightened him, at first. It didn’t anymore. 

Now he had new fears.

Alec let himself be pulled down, back into the warmth of the bed and Magnus’ arms. “How long?” he asked, his voice cracking a little. 

“How long what?” Magnus asked, nosing along his shoulder, pressing little kisses here and there. Alec had never in his life felt so loved. Not by his parents, not by his nurses. Not even by Isabelle. He felt cherished and cared for. And now that he knew what that meant, he had to give it all up. 

“How long do I have to cuddle you to make up for centuries of no cuddling?” Alec meant it to be light, a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. He could hear the fear in his own words. 

“Mmmm, I’ll let you know after the first fifty years, how does that sound?” Magnus drew Alec into a soft, slow kiss.

It sounded incredible. But impossible. 

“I’m betrothed,” Alec said, sitting back a little and letting the words fall between them. 

Magnus snorted and rolled his eyes. “A human thing, easily broken.” 

Alec wanted to laugh. “Don’t say that in front of my parents.” Gently pushing Magnus away, Alec got out of bed. He already felt colder, but there was nothing he could do about it. “I have duties,” he said. “Duties to my people. Duties to my family. You wouldn’t understand.” Alec wrapped a blanket around his waist and turned to look at Magnus.

Magnus was propped up on one elbow and staring solemnly at Alec. “Why were you hunting the boar?” he asked.

“What?” Alec asked. 

“The boar. Why were you hunting it?” Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Was it part of your princely duties? Will you hunt boar and slay monsters when you’re a king?”

When he was a king. Alec couldn’t imagine it. Sitting behind his father’s desk all day. Settling disputes. Signing decrees. The years stretched out ahead of him, kissing Lydia chastely on the lips, both of them withering inside as the years passed. He wanted to be a protector to his people, not a bureaucrat. He wanted...he wanted to be loved, now that he knew what it was like. How could he give that up? If he had only died on the mountain…

But he _had_ died on the mountain. 

The Prince Alexander who had blindly and complacently agreed to a marriage was dead. 

The quiet, biddable boy who followed his parents’ rules was dead. 

For all his parents knew? He was truly dead. Isabelle was the heir now. 

Alec sighed, letting his head fall forward. Isabelle. She would truly mourn him. He wouldn’t even hurt her, not for all the gold in this mountain. “My sister,” he said. 

“Isabelle,” Magnus reached out and took his hand, tugging him back down on the bed. “You don’t want to hurt her.” His thumb traced the back of Alec’s knuckles. “We can send her a message. I can transport her here, whatever you need. After your stories about her, I don’t want to hurt her either.” His hand stilled and he held Alec’s gaze. “She’s important to you. That makes her important to me.” 

Alec felt the first flutterings of hope in his chest. He’d never taken anything for himself before...was he allowed to have this? 

“Izzy should have been born first,” Alec said. “She’s brilliant, both as a warrior and a scholar. She would be an incredible queen.” he rolled his shoulders, giving voice to something he’d never said aloud. “She wants the job; I never did.” 

“Stay,” Magnus said, wrapping his arms around Alec and pulling him close again. “Stay and show me how to be human again. I will protect your people and you can protect them with me. When we can, I’ll show you other lands, and the strange creatures who live in the sea. Stay with me, Alexander, please.”

Something cracked inside Alec and a wellspring of joy bubbled up, flooding his veins and making his skin tingle. It was like the ice melting in the spring, when the river cracked through its bonds and rushed through the crags and hollows of the mountain. It was like being reborn. Prince Alexander was dead, long live Alec Lightwood.

“Yes,” Alec said, rolling over to kiss Magnus’ eyes, his cheeks, his lips. “I’ll stay. As long as you need me.”

…….

There was a dragon in the mountains. Everyone knew this. He was beautiful, red and gold, with glittering wings that looked like flame. He protected the borders from threats, both physical and magical. He was the pride of the land, and everyone loved and feared him. 

But the dragon was not alone. The rumor was, he was sometimes seen with a companion. A warrior, dedicated to the people of the realm. Few had seen this warrior, though many claimed to catch a glimpse of him, late at night, an arrow nocked in his bow, ready for battle.

The dragon and the warrior were said to serve Queen Isabelle herself, but when asked about it, she would only laugh and make a comment about that stubborn dragon serving only his own pleasures. 

There was a dragon in the mountain, and a warrior. 

And neither of them were alone ever again.


End file.
